


For An Eternity, Fight For Your Right To Exist

by kibasniper



Category: Umineko no Naku Koro ni | When the Seagulls Cry
Genre: Bad Advice, Canon Compliant, Cruelty, Dialogue Heavy, During Canon, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Missing Scene, Scheming, happy umineko day!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-12-01 20:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Lambdadelta and Beatrice watch the events of the first game unfold. Much to Lambdadelta's surprise, she can't find any flaws, but she still has some advice to share regardless of whether Beatrice wants to hear it or not.





	For An Eternity, Fight For Your Right To Exist

“Are you prepared?”

Beatrice raises her head. She would have commented on the absurdity of the question, but her master has poised it to her, and she dares not sneer at her. She gestures for Ronove to fill Lambdadelta’s cup as the Witch of Certainty observes the game, which Beatrice understands will one of many.

“Prepared for what?” Responding with a question seems like the proper solution when Lambdadelta curls her lip up.

George’s scream cuts through their conversation. On the screen is the game Beatrice has created playing into the second twilight. They watch him tear his fingers through his hair, the corpses of Hideyoshi and Eva sullied with stakes in their bodies, and he rushes over to his mother’s side. He buries his face at the corner of her bed, the stake gleaming brilliantly in the center of her forehead as her blood dries on the metal.

“Ha! Nice display!” Lambdadelta claps her hands above her head, her popcorn spilling into the creases of her dress.

Beatrice cackles and clutches her armrests. “This is what foolish humans deserve for not believing in me!”

“Agreed, agreed!” Lambdadelta titters and sighs. She presses her knuckles into her cheek, watching the Ushiromiya family scramble over the crime scene. As Maria prattles on about how the locked room could only be caused by magic, she narrows her gaze on to her ward. “Now, as I was saying, are you prepared?”

Beatrice’s mouth twists into a scowl. She crosses her legs and raises her pipe, the smoke mingling with the delectable scent of plum tea. Taking a quick puff, she blows the gray smog out in the shape of a pumpkin much to Lambdadelta’s delight.

“My game is perfect. There are no mistakes, missteps, or miscalculations. After all…” She jabs her pipe at the screen, Battler’s voice bellowing out some nonsense about how a witch couldn’t have killed his aunt and uncle. “...when my opponent is a man this idiotic, this moronic, this incompetent, how could I, the Golden and Endless Witch Beatrice, lose?”

“Those are some adjectives,” she jeers, earning a pout in return, Beatrice’s vigor evaporating like the smoke wafting around her head. 

Lambdadelta taps her heels against the checkerboard floor of Beatrice’s game room. So far, the tale amuses her. Filled to the brim with the right amount of horror, anxiety, humor, and gore, it’s pop, cute, and perfect. Watching the characters run around like headless chickens into obvious traps, laughing when they find corpses stranded in locked rooms, she believes this game is worthy of being called a masterpiece.

She already knows the culprit and the methods used to kill, but spoiling the truth isn’t in her blood. She’d rather recline into a soft cushion as the show plays out in real time. The characters fumbling over their mistakes until they end up splattered against the wall, their body parts falling off like a broken marionette, is the pinnacle of storytelling in her opinion.

As she listens to Maria explain Beatrice’s association with locked rooms, she realizes how incredible it is that her ward has managed such an intricate game board. Being that it is her first time as a Game Master, Lambdadelta must admit she’s impressed. There aren’t any obvious Logic Errors. First-timers usually make a critical mistake, one they have overlooked during their crafting period, but Beatrice is far more intelligent than other rubes she had taken under her wing.

_Legend of the Golden Witch_ is certainly perfect, and she would stake her name upon it.

“If I could criticize one part,” Lambdadelta says, causing Beatrice to stiffen, “some of the exposition drags on for too long. The part with Eva and Natsuhi accusing each other, it should’ve been shortened. I love dramatic scenes, but this one felt, hm…” She taps her chin. “...wordy, I guess. It felt like Natsuhi would have snapped much sooner instead of listening to Eva list out the exact reasons for why she could have been the killer.” She snickers, her eyes widening as an idea strikes her. “Oh! Maybe have Jessica jump in and slug her next time. She’ll do anything to defend her uptight mother. It’ll create even greater drama and suspicion to throw off everyone!”

Humming, Beatrice snaps her fingers. She summons a black notebook and an inked quill pen in a fit of golden butterflies. She flips open to an unmarked page and scribbles down Lambdadelta’s suggestion, her chin tucked to her chest.

“That girl is brash.” She smirks, appearing like a predator ready to maim her unsuspecting prey. “Yes, yes, I can already see an opportunity to use that girl’s foolishness against her in another game.”

Lambdadelta’s mouth falls open, and she lurches forward, her popcorn scattering to the floor. “Wha-? You’re already thinking about the next game?”

“Of course! When this game ends, the real fun will begin.” Beatrice glances at their guest, his body slumped in the chair reserved only for him. He twitches and groans, no traces of life left in his eyes. “With what happened in reality, Battler’s memories have been...damaged. Putting him in this state has given him full control of his piece, and it’ll give him equal ground when he comes to.” She traces his jaw with a sharp fingernail. “I can finally have my grand duel with him when he dies in this game and refuses to submit in my Golden Land.”

“And you expect him to not give in right away?” Lambdadelta gingerly sips and savors the tea which reminds her so much of her beloved. She chuckles and shakes her head. “That guy will probably bawl like a baby when he sees you. He hasn’t proved himself as a protagonist at all.”

She cackles and gestures for Ronove to leave. As he vanishes, she jeers, “Of course! His actions throughout this first game should be a good estimate of what he will be like in front of a real witch. He cannot suspect his family. He cannot suspect the furniture.” She licks her lips and watches his piece run around the mansion, desperately searching for clues and shouting about how it is impossible for a locked room to exist. “Look, look! This man, he’ll challenge me! There’s no doubt about it! I’m certain of it, and then, we shall have our-”

“-eternal duel?” Lambdadelta interjects, dangling her teacup on her pinky finger. She chuckles and hunches forward, finding Beatrice deflating back into her seat rather cute.

“I was going to say that. I would’ve been much more dramatic if you let me say it, Your Highness,” she pouts, puffing her cheeks out.

Laughing, she kicks her legs out and bursts into a giggling fit. She holds her belly and jerks her head back, her cackling overpowering the dialogue of the pieces. She goes on for a full minute, ignoring the irritation spreading on Beatrice’s face as her game goes ignored.

“Lady Lambdadeltaaa,” she whines, clenching her fist, “pay attention to the gaaame. I worked really hard on iiiit!”

Waving her hand, she sighs and swigs down the rest of her tea. It reminds her of the taste of Bernkastel’s mouth, leaving her wanting more. She snaps her fingers, and it refills instantly, her reflection murky in her drink just as Bernkastel would have liked.

“Okay, cut it out with that formal speech. It’s gonna get annoying fast if you keep whimpering like that.” She waves her hand dismissively, Beatrice returning to her arrogant self in the blink of an eye. Cupping her chin, she rests her elbow on the armrest and says, “Back to what I was asking. Are you prepared to spend eternity here?”

Beatrice twitches. She can hardly repress the shiver snaking down her spine. She looks down at Lambdadelta, an expression fit for one ready to betray their master.

“If you fight Battler forever-” She flicks the husk’s cheek. “-then of course, I’ll be your guardian forever. Bern is choosing the human’s side and will be trying to deny you at any mistake you make.” She tugs on Battler’s cheek, twisting the thin skin between her gloved fingers. A purple bruise is left behind when she pulls away. “Although, you shouldn’t worry about what Bern will do to you if you lose. I mean-” She shrugs. “-you could’ve started the game with him right here and now, but you’re giving him a handicap by letting him get used to the witch’s game instead of subjecting him to the worst mind game of his confused, memory-less life.”

Beatrice narrows her eyes, her pupils constricting. She flicks her wrist, and a butterfly flutters out of her sleeve. It hurries to Battler’s cheek and rests on top of the bruise. When its wings stop beating, it vanishes in sparkling dust, taking the bruise with it.

Scoffing, she crosses her arms and snaps, “You’re young, so listen up. Caring for your enemy won’t help you.” She cackles and drums her fingers on her arms. “All you need to do is win or come to a draw. Those are your only options. When I gave you the right to be a witch, you knew this would happen with absolute certainty.”

“That is…” Beatrice swallows the lump in her throat. “...true. I threw away my chance of happiness for the sake of…” She glances at Battler’s writhing body, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. “...this.”

“You’ll get to be with him forever, you know! It isn’t that bad. Just follow what I said, and you’ll learn the greatest pleasure of being a witch.” She tilts her head and grins, a saccharine smile fit for a girl scout before striking, her claw wrapping around Battler’s throat and squeezing. “Eternal control! Eternal torture! You can make this man suffer for what he did to you, just like what you’ll do to this cursed family! I’ll stake my name upon your cruelty, Beatrice!”

Sweat beaded Beatrice’s brow as Lambdadelta expected. She was like a rose, a delicate deception, but they could be stripped of their thorns. Carving them off along with the petals would be like stabbing her with the truth, leaving only a shriveled husk behind.

She couldn’t wait to watch what would happen if her resolve finally faded. With Bernkastel, she would drink her fill of this new game for as long as Beatrice lasted. She didn’t care about the pieces or the history behind the game boards. All that mattered was their entertainment shared in the endless games Beatrice provided them, her own heart and desires having never mattered to the witches.

“I will win,” Beatrice announces, her voice refusing to quiver. “I will make him acknowledge-”

“Yeah, yeah, acknowledge you and all that other boring jargon. Anyway…” She claps her hands and summons another bucket of popcorn, this time slathered in caramel and chocolate chips. “...back to the murders! Go and struggle, puny humans! Start dying already!”

She pops a handful into her mouth, stray pieces falling out of the corners of her lips. She stretches and unwinds the tension in her back. Savoring the sweet taste of her popcorn, she sighs and watches the show, her heart beating louder than ever as she wonders what Bernkastel will do to this already twisted game.

Beatrice glances at Battler, lowering her eyes when he whimpers. She knows she can’t return ad neither can he. She has trapped them all in her endless game just as Lambdadelta had sneered. All she can do is let the game play out and watch him struggle, hoping he will come free them from the eternity she fears they will both suffer through under the sharp eyes of the witches.

Closing her eyes, she prays to a god who has abandoned her and wishes that everything will be settled sooner rather than later.


End file.
